Watching the mile become the sensation,
In light of your beginning
Where all roads become the journey
Within your never-ending grief.
Evading the sounds of your resignation,
While words enter as deliberation.
Weeping stones from melting breath
In all that recedes to bottomless death.
An ocean breaks the current we met.
We reach the ice on edges of cut fingers,
Stagnating the pain that lingers –
While drawing our eyes in each other’s mouth,
Washing with falling currents, expelling the drought.
A terrible error, being believed
For all that remains upon the plume
To your razor’s cut on the tongue.
Steps to create the imprint
Around your streaming remnants.
Something deeper than the ocean
Pulls you on a current, close
To the one who lended you the rope
On the journey through the motion –
Outside the pillars that gravitate you
Down to where you falter, where you knew.
Modern Romanticism 